Icarus and the Untold story
by NoxTrot
Summary: What if the Dark Lord had a child? A child that wasn't born but created. A child that he didn't know about, taken and hidden in the muggle world? And what would happen when she is thrust into the magical world during a war that she could end? Will she fight for the light or will she follow in her fathers footsteps? This story will be a femslash!
1. Chapter 1

**Icarus and the Untold story.**

 **Hey guys this is my first time writing fanfiction so feedback would be appreciated :) I hope you enjoy this chapter and the many more that's to come. J.k Rowling owns all rights and characters besides my O.C Icarus.**

 **Chapter one **

_(20 years earlier)_

"Is this wise Albus? Severus is a loyal member of the order, if he finds out what we have done and that the potion was succesf– "Professor McGonagall started, but was soon cut off mid-sentence by Dumbledore.

"Minerva this is for the best. I have no doubt in where Severus's loyalties lie but this child I a threat. If Voldemort were to corrupt her… the Wizarding world would not stand a chance, the Order would fall." He whispered back, voice full of emotion, an impatience not usually associated with the headmaster.

"Is she really that powerful?" Inquired the doubtful old witch, her head tilting to the side as her face scrunched up staring across the room at the cot.

"Yes… her heritage will allow her to achieve great things but I fear the effects the potion might have had on her, perhaps like Voldemort she too will be unable to love or feel remorse. She could be just like him, a new dark lord." He spoke his voice taking on a pleading tone, attempting to persuade the witch that the events occurring tonight were for the best.

"But she is just a child Albus! With the right nurture –" She began but was once again quickly silenced by the Headmaster.

"Nurture may play role Minerva but not as much as one's nature, the blood of the most powerful Wizarding families run through her veins. Slytherin, and Merlin! An heir to the two, making her a relative to Voldemort himself! She was not born Minerva, but created, and we cannot risk the consequences if she turns dark." He said, whilst placing his hand on younger professor's shoulder.

With a sigh, the witch reluctantly relented "I hope you're right Dumbledore. What's the plan?"

His eyes twinkled as he answered his colleague "A magical bind. It will be as if she is a muggle, she will never know what she is. The bond will suppress her magic." Dumbledore strode to the cot where a new-born baby lay asleep, cocooned in a light cream blanket. The baby sprouted jet black hair that lay like a bird's nest on her head, messy and thick. It contrasted deeply with the rest of her, ivory skin without a blemish on any part except on the palm of her hand where a thin black scar lay running from side to side. The only indicator of what she was. The ancient wizard held his wand over the dreaming baby and began to mummer the words that would create the bond. A bright Flash of Purple was seen as the spell hit the girl square in the chest, waking her instantly as she began to scream in pain as her magical core was suppressed. Behind Dumbledore stood Minerva McGonagall, her eyes cast downward and jaw clenched as she heard the agony in the babies' cry. It wasn't until the purple light faded, minutes later and the screams died down into silence did she look up.

"Minerva" Dumbledore said looking into her tear stained eyes from across the room.

"Yes, Albus?" she said.

"It is best for you to forget about this, her. What we have done tonight is for the greater good, and in the end, that is all that truly matters." He said, his voice portraying no doubt in what he had just said, and done. McGonagall nodded, took a swift step to the right and apparated in one quick crack.

Dumbledore lent down and gently picked up the unconscious baby, looking down at the tear stained face of the baby he searched his enchanted pocket of his robe and pulled out an unused vile. Placing the vile in the path of a falling tear on the little girl's cheek he smiled as it slid in, and placed the corkscrew into the vile, preserving the tear. "It's for the greater good" he said as his face split into a full beamed smile and his wise eyes shone, twinkling. Prior to McGonagall, he too apparated away into the night, the child in his arms and fate in course.

* * *

In the early hours of the night on the edge of the entrance of the small village, there was a loud cracking noise. It caused the slumbering birds to croak and the nearby dogs to bark, whine and howl. In the middle of the street stood a lonely tall figure, he walked confidently, striding past the 'Welcome to Aberlliw' sign that greeted him. The lanky man wore long robes, oddly coloured in vibrant bold colours such as red, blue and purple. His face was hidden behind the shadow of his hat, a pointed red velvet hat as well as the man's long white and grey beard. He continuously walked until he reached the first street, glancing up he stared at the street lamp, shook his head and pulled out a small device from his pocket. Pressing the lid of the device off he collected the only lights that illuminated the little village. He did not want to and could not be seen. He continued onwards following the main street until it split into two. The one on the right leading to more houses, the other on the left-hand side, an old worn-down pathway that led to large iron gates. He turned left, walked up to the locked rusting gate, pointed his wand and whispered "Alohomora". The gate swung open with a loud thud that made him hope didn't make enough noise to cause anyone to come and investigate. Pulling himself out of his thoughts he brushed passed the now open gate and followed the trail into the dark just as the heavens opened up and rain pummelled the ground.

Coming up to a massive detached gothic house that had ivory growing up the entire length of it untamed. Dumbledore read the sign above the oak doors. He smiled to himself and pushed a part of his robe away, revealing the same sleeping girl he had taken from the ritual hours before. He walked up the grand stone stairs onto the porch and, reaching the door he placed the girl onto the floor, rang the doorbell and apparated away. Not once looking back at the abandoned child. Not soon after the old wizard left did the heavy oak doors open, casting a warm glow into the darkness of the cold, winter night and as a result revealing the baby to the surprised middle-aged man.

"Missy! We've got another one!" he shouted into the house causing the baby to wake with a startled cry. The man knelt down picking her up hushing her, attempting to settle her back down. A lively woman with a wrinkled face, bounded down the stairs of the house and rushed towards the man. "Is it hurt David?" she asked, panicking as she fluttered around the bolding man trying to look for any injuries. "No, no she's fine love from what I can see, let's get her in and settled, you take her and I'll phone social services. This is the third baby in a month." He said passing the girl to the mousy haired women. Bringing his hand up and rubbing his face attempting to wipe the tiredness away, he glanced down at the baby girl, and found the girl staring at him. "She's a heterochromia." He said stepping close to the girl. She had one bright blue eye that reminded him of a summer day and one as gold as honey. The girl began to smile and move, yawning she kicked her leg causing it to flick the blanket off and as a result causing a note to slowly drift onto the floor. David kneeled picking it up and began to read it out loud for his wife to hear.

 _To Aberlliw Orphanage,_

 _Please look after Icarus._

"Icarus? what an unusual name."

* * *

 _(Present time)_

Bellatrix Lestrange sat in the corner of her damp mouldy cell looking out of her barred window that held the view of the stormy sea. The room was cold and held a stale scent, to which would only have been attainable, through years of neglect and not cleaning. Unfortunately for the witch no fresh air ever entered the cell to remove such a stench due to the charm placed on the window many years prior. One could look out but nothing could penetrate it. The Ministry had decided that this slight trick would reduce the risk of any breakout of the ancient prison. At the time, this announcement of improvements in the defence of the asylum, was criticised by many, thinking it a waist of valuable tax payer's money, after all no one had ever escaped Azkaban. People speculated this was due to Azkaban notorious location within the Ministry of Magic, as is sat in the middle of deep waters, like a tall silhouette of a statue surrounded by nothing but salt-water, as land was out of sight in every direction possible. Thus, making it impossible to whomever held residence there to imagine their self anywhere else but in the dark prison. The black-haired witch watched as the waves crashed against the solid stone of the prison bouncing of like hail hitting the rock-hard ground. She sighed as she looked up from the sea to the sky, knowing that the dark colours where reflected from the hundreds of dementors that flew around, guarding the building and thereby creating one giant cloud of blackness. This had been her life and her home through and through for the last fifth teen years, a never-ending supply of darkness.

Disgusted by the sight before her eyes Bellatrix turned her head away looking around her cell and the items within it. To say the cell was small was an understatement, the room only had space for one occupant as the cold rusting steel bed took most of the area up, a fact that Bellatrix didn't mind as most of the other prisoner's beds had collapsed and corroded over the years due to the harshness of time and the horrible weather that correlated with the Pacific Ocean. This was also true for the older witch, as the harsh environment and stress of living here and the devoid of light causing harsh punishment to her once luscious black hair, now struck with white, and knotted together, mimicking that of a bird's nest. Her teeth too had rotted away with her mind due to the years spent in the tiny cell, and malnourishment had caused her face to shrink into itself, her eye sockets now more pronounced, with dark shadows underneath contrasting with her pale skin. In other words, Bellatrix, the proud daughter of the noble house of Black was a shell her once powerful and beautiful self. The only thing that had grown with her in the hell hole was her darkness, her loyalty to her cause to the dark lord who for unfortunate reasons had been defeated by a Child! But the tattooed arm of the dark witch still stood out proudly and boldly. Proving to her that all those years of pain were worth the cause and her loyalty was worth it. Because Bellatrix Lestrange knew that the Dark Lord had risen and this time she vows he would not fall.

"Bang!"

Bellatrix raised her head from looking down at her arm, turned and stared at the view that that made her smile, show her rotten teeth and laugh, a wicked screech that rang, echoing for miles and miles around the prison. She could feel for the first time in years freedom as the salty water clashed against the side of the prison and sprayed onto her. Staring out of the now huge hole that ate at her cell where her narrow window once was, she saw him, and her people. He was back, and now, so was she.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

 **Hey guys this is the second chapter to the story! I hope you enjoy it and stick around for more. I'm super excited with what I have planned for the next couple of chapters and with introducing Icarus to Bellatrix. Just note that some events might stray from the book because I was too lazy to dodge some plot holes :) at least this way it works now! Enjoy.**

The smell of damp polluted the air of the alleyway where a group of vile men stood surrounding a petite dark-haired woman, who seemed to be in her late teens to early twenties. The men stood barricading the women from any exits, that would allow her to escape the dark, isolated dead-end. The men all held rather animalistic characteristics, they growled, snarled and were poised crouched their long, sharp nails extended towards the women, ready to attack. Their facial features were venomous, stretched out to grins as they barred their sharp yellowing teeth threatening the stranded women before them. Sweat protruded from their foreheads, down their scarred faces, dripping freely off of their chins. All four of the boorish men had scars it would seem covering their bodies, but none as much as the notorious werewolf known as Fenrir Greyback.

The pack leader took a step forward towards their prey, eyes twinkling with the thrill of the hunt. It had been a long time since the beast had, had fresh flesh and as a consequence he could barely control himself from ripping the women's throat out. Not that he would have to control himself for much longer. At this thought he flashed a full blow smile, flashing his stained teeth to the young women causing her to shiver in fear and disgust. He relished in this sight of her shaking form, the fear he smelt rolling of her in waves, bringing to life every nerve ending in his body and coaxing his beast to come out and play, to finally after weeks of helping his dark lord have his prey. He stepped closer, watching the girl stumble back into the old wall that taunted her from escaping. He heard a rumble, perhaps laughter from his men, but at that point he was far too gone to notice such things other than the pulsing vein that drummed rhythmically on her neck, calling to him. As if hypnotised he took another step, agonisingly slow, drawing closer on the girl, building her fear, allowing him from this distance to hear the faint thud of her running heartbeat.

He had wished to draw this moment out, making it last for hours, torturing her every second she stayed alive, to relish in the taste of the young one flesh, to hear her anguished cries as he bit down onto her, ripping heaps of flesh out of her until his men two followed order, giving themselves over to nature and joining. That is what he had hoped, but… he never did have that much control. Lunging forward the werewolf grabbed hold of the dark-haired women's neck, twisting her around and pulling her struggling body flush against him, her back colliding harshly with him, his grip presumably plastering her neck with dark bruises. He lent his head down inches away from her neck, taking in the scent of fear for the final time as he opened his deranged mouth and attacked.

* * *

Icarus couldn't believe this. The young women had known going to the party had been a bad idea. Especially with the recent reports of missing people around the area that she lived. Aberlliw was a small village in Wales, west of the big city and had little to no trouble at all, the crime rates were low, everyone knew each other, as well as each other's business and as a result this had left her in no other words, young and naïve with the world around her. But unfortunately, the women, who for the most of her life had been alone, without friends and always feeling different had leaped at the opportunity to attend a party with her peers and for once feel normal. At least that had been the plan before she was side-tracked and chased down a dead-end by a large group of savage men.

"Hello there beaut" this was the first indicator that someone was near Icarus. Jumping slightly, she took a step back, frowning as she realised she didn't recognise the older man. His face was marred with scars, pale and had a small black beard. His hair was over exceeding his forehead and brushed back into tangled locks that run to the length of his neck. What struck Icarus the most though was not his glistening razor sharp teeth, but his predatory black, cold eyes, that held a dark gleam in them that caused every cell in her body to scream RUN! But she remained, her years of growing up in a strict school that ingrained manners into her prevented her from doing so, even when the stench of the man reminded her of gone off milk and meat. To her the street that parted them felt like mere inches.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, her tone curt and blunt, not showing any signs of the fear, she felt building in her. The man smiled a long and twisted smile that had the petite women's gut clenching in disgust. Stepping forward slightly the man said "yeah there is. You see me and some of the boys have been real busy lately… and I guess now we're looking for some fun." His voice was full of excitement whilst he spoke, his smile not faltering just growing as he saw the effects the sentence had on the young girl. She shrunk back involuntarily, her feet not her own as she tried to make space between the two of them. Her heart began to thud and hands shake, as the adrenaline run through her body faster than lightening. Clenching her fists, she tried to regain some ounce of control over herself.

"What… boys?" she asked not attempting to hide the shiver of fear that coated her voice. At this his eyes darkened and caused her to stumble back into something big and hard.

"The ones right behind you." This was all she needed to forgo her manners as she sprinted down the dark street that was illuminated by only a handful of streetlights. Not looking back, she stumbled and took a sharp left running down a narrow alley following its twists and turns until she was hit with a brick wall, literally a brick wall. The panic had reached its tipping point by now as she tried in vain to climb the towering wall. Sinking onto the cold damp floor the young girl took quick burst of shaky breaths, praying that something will help her. That she had managed to give them the slip. It would seem God was not on her side. She heard them coming closer towards her, their laughter bouncing off of the walls creating and echo that led directly to her. She was trapped.

* * *

The sensation was unlike anything the young women had experienced in her short life on this earth. It started in her chest, painfully causing her lungs to feel aflame, as if every breath she took was liquid fire that caressed and scorched its way through her body. Slowly flowing into her heart and then rushing directly into her bloodstream, boiling her alive. It sparked every cell to life causing a burst of pain to rush through her in a matter of seconds. It did not end there, the pressure continued to build, increase in heat and pain, its effects almost blinding to its confused victim, who stood shaking and lightheaded as a side-effect to its ungodly force.

The man moved to fast for Icarus to comprehend what had happened. One second she was stumbling back, trying and failing with all her might not to show how scared she was and the next second the dark-haired women felt a hot breath against her neck, a vile and disgusting stench reach her nose due to the man's breath that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise, her eyes dilate and the pressure reach max capacity within her chest. During this period Icarus was only able to have a few conscious thoughts, the main one being; 'Is this what dying feels like?' That was until the pressure burst, a wall of shear power extending from her body, flinging the men surrounding her into unconsciousness, and stopping the vile creature from succeeding in his attack.

With that the petite women, disgruntled on the floor, sat on grime with a completely gob-smacked look. She stared blankly at the chaos around her, the unconscious men, and most disturbingly the dead man who's neck it would seem had snapped into an unnatural position whilst being flung ten-feet into a wall. It was too much for her to comprehend as her body succumbed to shock causing her to fall unconscious. The last thing she noticed before fully welcoming the darkness was a flash of bright bubble-gum pink hair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys this chapter took a little longer than expected, because I've been really busy! But I already have the fourth in motion so that shouldn't take as long. I hope you like this chapter and feel free to leave a review or ask any questions.**

 **Chapter 3**

The rain bashed viciously against the window of the young Aurors room, attempting to break through the glass and flood the young Hufflepuff's vibrant room. Books were scattered around the floors and shelves of the room, climbing on top of each other and in some cases almost reaching the ceiling. The literature ranged from magical books such as, quidditch throughout the ages to more academic topics like Dark creatures and how to defend oneself. It seemed there was also a mixture of muggle books, some the young witch would refuse any accusations of owning them. After all it wouldn't do any good for some of the muggle-born Aurors to know she was reading Roald Dal. Even if James and the giant peach was her favourite. God forbid if Hermione found out. The floor and services although cluttered was nothing compared to the woman's walls. Every square inch was covered in posters, photos and drawings. Ranging from huge Badgers that represented her beloved Hogwarts house, to posters of her favourite quidditch team and in her opinion the best; The holly heads. She had framed a signed poster of her favourite band, the weird sisters that her father had given her this Christmas. It looked like to any other person a complete and utter mess, but to Tonks this was undoubtedly home.

In the middle of the same small dainty room slept a young woman. What had originally been long curly black hair was now a college of shifting colours. Flowing into complete opposites in mere seconds, platinum blonde to navy blue. The only thing that seemed not to shift unconsciously was the length of the young metamorphs hair, which lay sprawled out onto her pillow flowing in every direction. Her facial features were sharp, strong cheekbones, a neckline that could cut through dragon hide. In other words, she was beautiful, at least to Auror Tonks that is. She supposes it helped that the woman was also like her.

"Any change?" said the older women with dark chestnut hair. She placed a hand upon Tonks's shoulder gently squeezing it, attempting to calm the agitated witch. "Nah, she hasn't moved a muscle mum." Replied her daughter, looking down at her watch she noticed the time. She'd have to report back to the Order on Greyback. Andromeda frowned at this her brow furrowing as the took in the mystery girls appearance, noting a faint black scar on the palm of the girl's hand.

"What's this?" She muttered to herself, leaning over her daughter's shoulder and picking up the sleeping girls hand. Frowning deeper the patron brushed against the length of the unusual scar until she felt a slight shock, that caused her to fling herself backwards, knocking Tonks's chair along with her. The two women, crumpled on the carpeted floor stayed motionless for a couple of seconds, the silence being broken by the quickened breath of the pink haired woman. Tonks was the first to react, coming out of her shocked state, her lips turned up into a grin as she spoke "Bloody hell mum! You're meant to be the stealthy one in the family!" her laughter rolled out of her and raised to an even higher volume as she stared over to her mother, who was slumped on the floor, arms and legs wild spread out like a starfish, and thick hair covering her entire face. Tonks's would have continued to laugh at her rarely ungraceful uptight mother but a noise behind her stopped her. Her years of Auror training kicked into action, as she spun around wand at the ready, pointing it at the confused girls face.

"Why do you have a stick?" Icarus asked, her voice rough and neck throbbing from the attack earlier that night.

"Wotcha Icarus." Tonks said, her voice polite as she slowly lowered her wand and allowed the drumming of her heart to ease. Icarus stared at the colourful woman in front of her. She took in the woman's features, everything from her short pink hair, to her small button nose. She noticed that the woman was tall, towering over her in odd clothes that seemed to resemble… robes?

"How do you know my name? Who are you?!" she asked, noting the elder woman who was lifting herself from the floor behind the pink haired girl. They seemed to hold some resemblance that had Icarus wondering if perhaps that was the tall girl's mother. She looked up finally, directly into the quirky woman's hazel eyes.

Tonks stood frozen solid, the eyes of the Icarus girl was breath-taking and unlike anything she had ever seen. The two distinct colours contrasted each other perfectly. The blue eye was a pale blue, cold whereas the other one was honey gold and inviting. The older girl stood there completely oblivious to the question she had been asked as she continued to stare intently at the beautiful woman in front of her… on her bed. She heard her mother cough behind her and felt a slight nudge that snapped her out of the thoughts she was having that embarrassingly had caused her hair to shift the a dark red along with the rest of her face. She hated her gift in moments like this.

Ah yeah sorry 'bout that" she coughed clearing her throat, "I saw your ID card when you fell unconscious. I was on route tracking some death eaters' location and activity when I came across you and them, before I could do anything though you'd already finished them off, collapsed and I brought you here." She began shuffling unconsciously on each foot at the girl's intense stare. "With the threat, the death eaters are I didn't want to risk taking you to St. mungo's just in case that was attacked and Greyback came lookin' for revenge, so I brought you here. I'm Tonks by the way.

She stared back at the girls face and frowned in confusion, why is she staring at me like that?

"Nymphadora, she doesn't know about herself let alone the politics of our world!" Her mother reprimanded her, yet again causing her hair to turn an even darker red, and nostrils flare. "Don't call me Nymphadora!" She yelled at her mother, she had gone over this plenty of times, why couldn't the older witch understand her hatred for that horrible name? The patrons face twisted into the very definition of fury, and at that moment Tonks could see her mother's resemblance to her deranged aunt, Bellatrix. She stalked up to the young girl's face, eyes black as coal and in a voice colder than ice spoke to her only child. "do not speak to me like that, I am your mother. Your name is not something to be ashamed of, so I suggest you rain in that temper." The silence in the room was deafening, the only things that could be heard was the storm raging outside and Tonks talking a gulp before stepping back from her mother arms raised in surrender. The silence was soon broken though as she slipped on a stray book and came crashing down onto the floor, knocking over two stacks of the books on top of her. Damn her clumsiness!

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

Meanwhile in the Malfoys manor, sat a large group of masked figures. They sat in elegant chairs that surrounded a large oak table. The air in the room was almost as cold as it was outside, a feat considering it was mid-winter and of course the storm. Thunder roared, echoing throughout the manor, bouncing of walls, laughing at the inhabitant's silence.

"What?" it was a simple enough question, one that usually would not be held in such a malicious tone. Unfortunately for the questioned, Fenrir Greyback the Dark Lord did not like asking it.

"I'm sorry my lo-" The werewolf was cut off, he didn't see the spell cast at him as his eyes were downcast from the shame. He had failed his Lord, and he will be lucky if he survived the night. The pain was excruciating, it burned him from the inside, leaving him unable to control his body, his arms flailed, body twisted and writhed on the marble floor. The flame inside alone seemed to grow more eager as his screams rose, it was as if it had a mind of its own and its hunger was otherworldly, it attacked every morsel of his body, burning until he felt his vision start to become clouded with black. Just as quickly as it came it ended, he knew that even though it had felt like an eternity it had only been seconds. He slouched on his chair, his body shaking as a result to the cruciactus curse. No, it seemed unlikely that he will survive.

"Look at me while I speak!" His Lord screamed, closer than he'd expected. He barely had time to register the command before his head was being violently and forcefully lifted by the snake like man. Greyback managed to move his eyes to reach his Lords and had to suppress his whimper. The Lord induced fear by simple muttering his name, being in his presence and looking him directly in his blood red eyes was enough to leave the average wizard locked up in an asylum. His eyes stood out the most, almost glowing in the dimly lit room, his face was pale, allowing his veins to pop. His nose… well there wasn't one, but two, snake like slits that allowed the dark wizard to breathe.

When he spoke next his voice was devoid of any emotion that caused the still quivering man to flinch, "You failed to carry out a direct order. Not only that but you thought it wise to prolong your duties and hunt a girl! A muggle! Which said girl managed to stun all of your men including you and kill another? Am I hearing this correctly mutt! That an apparent muggle was able to take out 6 death eaters!" he spat his anger literally screaming in the half breed's face.

"Y-yes my Lord, her scent was muggle... up until I t-tried to bite 'er. Then there was a force, a magical shield that burst from her… That's not all, my Lord… A member of the Order was present…" his voice died down, the man next to him was seething. "Who?" Voldemort asked, his voice barely audible, just a soft breath in his ear. "Bellatrix's' blood traitor sister, h-her daughter. The metamorph. She appeared after we were stunned and took the girl." He managed to mumble out, the shaking still present even after the curse.

Voldemort stood abruptly, spun and strode back to his seat at the head of the table. After sitting he turned to his righthand side towards Bellatrix, his most loyal follower. "I do not like this. How easy it was for a member of the order track one of us. If you had managed to complete your order Greyback" he hissed, causing the man to sink further in his seat "they would have discovered our plan…" he pondered, stroking Nigani as she slithered up his body and wrapped herself around him. "What about the girl my lord?" spoke Bellatrix her voice strong, confident. The complete opposite to the werewolf. "Ah yes the girl. It wouldn't surprise me if your niece simply took her to protect her. But it seems to close to a coincidence with her being able to attack the death eaters. You say she smelt like a muggle?" he asked turning his red eyes once again to Greyback "yes my Lord, I would have proceeded with more caution if I believed her to be a witch." Replied the beastly man. At this the dark Lord sat back into his chair, his face masked in consideration as he considered the evidence. Soon his face split into a huge grin that caused his followers to shiver in fear. He had an idea of what had caused this. "A magical bind. That must be why you thought she was a muggle. Her powers were bound, most likely when she was a child. It conceals and cancels all magic, leaving them as a muggle." He spoke.

This caused several reactions in his court. The main one being confusion, as the vast majority of purebloods wondered why anyone would restrict a child's magic. The second was curiosity, the dark Lord saw it flash across Severus's black beady eyes, and noticed him sit upright in his chair. The third was from Bellatrix, as always, her maniac smile was in place, but her eyes held a thoughtful look. There was a reason she was his right hand. She was far more intelligent than she let on, an advantage she used against her enemies. "Only a powerful wizard could do such magic for that long of a period, my Lord." She said her voice ever so cheery. "Yes, you are correct. And who do we know, besides me that is capable of such an ungodly trait?" he asked his followers looking at every single one of them inch by inch. His face landed on Lucius Malfoy as he so his face morph into realisation "Dumbledore?" the platinum blonde said. "Yes. Which brings the question? What's special about this girl that the Leader of 'light' broke the law and used dark magic?" The room was silent everyone in shock at the idea. He turned towards Bellatrix and spoke for the final time during the meeting. "Find out."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys I know this is a short chapter but I promise the next one will be longer. Sorry it took so long I've been busy with worrying over university and super lazy :) I hope you all enjoy**

 **Chapter 4**

Albus Dumbledore, the esteemed light wizard, headmaster of Hogwarts and owner of the Elder wand was for the first time in over four decades, scared. Perhaps that word didn't do what the ancient man was feeling right now justice, no he was petrified. The man stood hunched over, barely managing to hold his weight as his left hand rested on his dark cherry wood desk, which now served a different purpose from holding countless of books and artefacts to being his legs. Helping stabilize him from the wave of dizziness he felt from the pain that had overtaken him moments before.

At first, the wizard had believed that he was experiencing a heart attack. It had begun, with a slight shock that run through his body, and quickly escalated to a pain that was indescribable, his vision had blurred, head throbbed as if he'd just been hexed, his legs had given way causing him to stumble into his desk, and his heart… well he felt as if it had been replaced with a reborn phoenix, bursting in hungry flames and causing him to believe these were his final moments. But as quickly as it had happened the pain was gone, and realisation dawned in the headmaster's eyes. The magical bind had broken. Which left him in this state, petrified.

Fawkes stared at his trembling friend. The familiar had lived alongside the wizard for many years and had never seen him in such a state. Confused the familiar cocked his head to the side and sung loudly, a beautiful song full of joy that drifted throughout the chambers, as he attempted to cheer up his old friend. Albus Dumbledore payed no attention to his familiar, absorbed in his thoughts he begun to plan and evaluate what had just happened. Gasping to catch his breath he straightened and with shaky legs walked around the front of his desk and sat on his chair. How could this have happened? He thought to himself. He had been careful all these years, reinforcing the binds on the girl so that they never broke, making sure she stayed out of trouble. He'd even charmed her to stay in the tiny village so he'd be able to keep track of her. And yet the girl had managed the impossible and allowed her magic to break free from its chains.

Dumbledore frowned, his face twisting into pure worry as he considered the consequences of the events that had just occurred. The Girl must have been exceedingly powerful to do this, more so than he originally thought. It would not do him any good to reapply the bind, she'd most likely break free again. He shook his head and sighed, attempting to clear the worry that danced around his thoughts.

"Fawkes, old friend. What am I going to do about her? She's dangerous. Too powerful…" he whispered to the phoenix, his voice sombre, until a thought struck him. "powerful yes… if we could guide her, make her see the light… at least long enough until Harry completes the prophecy. She'd make a great ally. And a great protector for the boy." He mumbled to himself, allowing a semblance of a plan to forge in his mind. "Yes, she will prove useful." He said, smile gracing his face and eyes twinkling with mischief. All the grey-haired man had to do know was locate her and find out exactly what had happened.

At this thought the tall man stood, pushing his chair back and walked over to his window. He noted the storm that raged outside and remembered the weather article from the daily prophet, that had predicted this storm all over Britain. He allowed the tension to leave his body as he watched the lightning strike near the whopping willow causing it to rustle away in fear. The Headmaster stood there for what seemed like forever watching the storm take its course and thunder roar overhead. He was so absorbed in the spectacle that he almost missed the chiming of his clock, revealing it was 9 o'clock at he was in fact late for the Order meeting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay so this is super late, once again! But good news is that I've drafted the majority of the story so it's coming. I would just like to mention that Icarus will not become a bodyguard for Harry, Dumbledore will try and make her but I'd like her to have her own story that may or may not involve her becoming more of a dark/grey character. I hope you like the tone I've set for Tonks and her struggle with staying light it's something I'd like to explore as the story develops. As always please leave any comments and reviews and I hope you enjoy!** _

12 Grimmauld place was Tonks' least favourite place to visit. She hated everything about it, the damp, darkness that seemed to seep into every corner in every room down to the very soul of the house, the dark magic that had been used by generations of her family had had an effect. It caused a feeling of sorrow and anger to drench itself into her very bones. Not for the reasons many would think though, oh no. What she despised the most was the fact that she loved it, the feeling of dark magic that danced around the air, calling to her, begging for her to give in and be who the majority of the world viewed her family to be, dark.

"No wonder we're all nutters." She murmured to herself, taking a moment to think that if she had grown up here like the rest of her family then she too would be running around like a dark magic junkie. Of course, this was never something she admitted out loud, ever. The call the dark had on her. And she supposes it's not something she is ever likely to admit, not that she had too, everyone knew it was in her blood. She just had to fight it with light. The Auror caught a brief glance of Icarus lifting her eyebrow in a questioning look when she muttered it, saw her ruby red lips separate as she took in a deep breath undoubtedly ready to ask her 'Wha' the hell you on about mate?'. She was cut short though by the noise coming from the other end of the narrow corridor where it seemed Molly Weasley once again was arguing with the portrait of Walburga Black for screaming Mudblood at Hermione.

"The pictures talkin', Pink." Said the Welsh witch, shock evident in her voice.

"Yeah, I'd like to say you get used to it, but great aunt Walburga over there never shuts up, we have to draw the curtains around her portrait so she thinks its night-time like some animal so we can get some peace'n' quiet. Can't get her off the wall see, stuck up there with a permanent sticking charm...annoying Bitch." She replied rambling a bit when she noticed the attractive witches look of confusion.

"what?" Icarus asked, her eyebrows furrowed as if she was beginning to get a headache. Which in all honesty wouldn't surprise the metamorph, it had been an extremely long night.

"Sorry, I forgot. You don't have a clue. Don't worry I'll try and explain after the meeting. I'm sorry I had to drag you here but appearance sake and that mould growing over there aside this is the safest place you could be." She said, tone soft, and hinting at how tired the witch truly was as she bored into Icarus' unique eyes, loosing herself just a little. There was something different about this one she thought to herself, something she despite only knowing her for a couple of ours screamed at her that this powerful, alluring woman was important.

Tonks looked away first hearing a cough in front of her, it was then that she realised that the house was quiet. No explosions could be heard from the twin's experiments, Hermione and Ron's bickering and most shockingly of all her great aunt's portrait was silent.

Molly Weasley stood stubbornly in the middle of the hall way, arms resting on her hips and the typical mother bear battle cry stance and a scowl that would make most feel like a child. "What time do you call this, we've all been worried sick! No Patronus, no letter! You were due back hours ago we all thought Greyback had gotten to you! Where have you been young lady and who is this?" she ranted in one single breathe, her face going a dark shade of red towards the end that signalled the infamous Weasley temper. Tonks winced, bringing her hand to the back of her neck and gulped, her eyes briefly flashing red. Reigning in her anger at being treated as a child rather than an order member and Auror Tonks replied. Her voice was calm not showing any of her inner turmoil, that is the even more infamous family trait, the Black temper. "I got caught up with this one over here. Look I can't say right now I don't want to repeat myself more than I have to. Has the Order gathered yet? Her names Icarus, she's… a friend."

The matron took one huff and let out a quick nod, with that her stance eased and anger dissipated leaving her body like water being absorbed into the ground. "Yes, yes, you're quite right dear, I'm sure the rest will want to hear as well. Most of them are here, we were just waiting for you and Dumbledore. Well come on in, don't just stand there. Ill make you both something to eat. You look far do skinny dear." She directed the last statement towards Icarus, looking her up and down before hurriedly spinning and disappearing into the kitchen.

Icarus looked at Tonks and gave out a little smile, it barely graced her face before it was gone but it was enough to cause the pink haired women's heart to start racing and a full beam to grace her face. "Welcome to the mad house." She said, placing an arm on the back of the shorter witches back and guided them through after Mrs Weasley. Unbeknownst to them they had failed to notice the late Walburga's gaze following them step for step, flickering with delight only seen on her face when talking about her beloved niece Bellatrix and eldest son Regulus. "Finally, the blood traitor associates herself with a worthy acquaintance to the house of Black." She smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **So, I haven't updated in a long time, my bad! I've made this chapter a little chunkier than the rest to make up for that fact so I hope you all enjoy. As always reviews are more than welcome, the good and bad. I just want the make this the best it can be, so if you see any errors let me know and I'll fix them up as soon as. J.K Rowling owns all rights to Harry Potter and its Characters :)**

Icarus didn't know how her life had ended up like this. She'd never envisioned herself leaving the tiny village she'd called home for 20 years. Mrs. Jones, who'd treated her like a daughter, consoling her every time an adoption fell through or her neighbours John and Julie who'd try with all their might to learn all the little secrets of the street. Icarus laughed to herself, a small puff of air leaving her chest as she thought of the two's faces if they knew about what had happened in her life these past six months, would they laugh back at her, John's greasy greying hair cling to his chalky white crinkling face as he looked at the young girl he'd seen wonder around the village for years say she was a witch? No of course not they'd stare baffled and worried, Julie probably dashing off to call the doctors saying I'd gone mental… that would fuel the hungry gossipers for some time. The witch shuffled her weight onto her other foot, standing awkwardly in her new unusual purple robes, and thought 'I wouldn't blame them if they did think me crazy, who in their right mind would believe me? I wouldn't.' and yet here she was, Diagon Alley and Aberlliw felt like a distant memory.

Tonks had spoken highly of this place along with the rest of the Order and she could see why. It was in all honesty magical. The cobblestone ground could barely be seen with the amount of people that swarmed the street. All of which wore different colours, bright blues, greens, maroon, some with pointed hats others with trunks that levitated behind their owners following them like lost puppies. Various stalls and Peddles were littered around calling at passers-by to buy their latest invention, freshly bloomed flowers or roasted chestnuts.

The shops were all different from each other, crooked buildings that had huge displaying windows showing off all oddities from clusters of Bronze, iron and silver cauldrons that toppled over each other in Potage's cauldron shop to the dragon hide and Egyptian silk robes displayed in Twilfitt and Tatting's. Cleary the latter was one of the higher end shops that were dotted around Diagon Alley Icarus concluded as she took in the people dressed the best walking in and out of it. Her attention stayed particularly on the platinum blonde, almost aristocratic woman peering into the latest fall fashion. The blonde held her head high, her posture that of perfection and her dark green, almost black clothes impeccable, no crease in sight. It was clear to Icarus that this woman, like the way she displayed herself, would be beautiful, even if half of her was unfortunately facing away from the curious witch.

A chirp bell ringing drew back her attention to the shop in front of her, how muggle, the witch thought. She caught a glance of a family walking out, the youngest smiling eagerly at what Icarus presumed was a new wand. The shop wasn't as grand as the rest she had seen. Its windows were dusty and the black paint had faded and began to peel off, exposing worn wood; the original exterior, leaving the small store to look run down and old. _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ read over the door, in gold etching, flaking like its black counterpart.

"Excited to get your wand?" she heard come from her left, Tonks. Not that anyone would be able to tell, she'd disguised herself as a bolding middle-aged man, with brown eyes and quite a thick body. It still amazed Icarus, even after spending these past months beside Tonks what the normally pink haired witch could do… well she supposed what they could do. Tonks, she'd soon learned after agreeing to stay in 12 Grimmauld place didn't believe in taking things easy, easing into something new and decidedly threw Icarus straight into the deep end of learning to control her metamorphism abilities. It was a shock to the system at first, her friend's bubbly and sometimes clumsy demeanour hid a very strict and hardworking young woman who wouldn't take anything but perfection from her students. A trait she believes derived from the Aurors mentor, Madeye Moody. Either way this led to mornings turning into nights were Icarus repeated morphing her body until she could do it without much thought. Which had finally allowed her to leave the mad house and pick up her wand, as she too was in disguise. It also provided as an escape to the close proximity of Tonks she seemed to be experiencing lately and the awkwardness of their last training session.

 _For generations the Black family was considered powerful, pure and deadly. Their reputation preceded them, they had enough money to make the goblins at Gringotts envious and equally impressed, eager to offer their safes for the noble house and enough raw magic to make many in the wizarding world tremble in fear. They were among the elite of the elite in the eyes of the entire wizarding world. Slowly the family began to die out, family feuds lead to heads of the house to outcast the muggle sympathizers, the blood traitors until the family became a single branch that mainly consisted of women, unable to carry the family name who were married off to several elite and noble families such as the Malfoys, Potters and Peverell. Despite this, their reputation remained strong, their influence unshaken and the name respected. That of course would all go away if the wizarding world, or mainly the pureblood families managed to see what remained of the family's noble house. The walls peeled, mould, stretching throughout the house, mixing with the smell of damp and blackening the walls. Artefacts that were once treasured were coated in dust or broken left tinkering around. The fine wooden floors, splintered at its best but, mainly now rotting. The majority of the house was unliveable, and the ones that were occupied were only just liveable. Mrs. Weasley had attempted to fix what she could, dragging Sirius, Remus and her children all to clean what they could for an entire fortnight, but to no avail. It was in ruins._

 _This is how Icarus believes she had acquired her cold. She also couldn't believe that a civilization as advanced in potions namely medical, still didn't have a cure for the common illness. No potion to help her, only common practices such as warm tea and honey which when suggested by a 'grandfatherly' git led to salt magically appearing in his tea instead of sugar a couple of days later. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes seemed to lose their spark that day, Icarus noted smugly. Being ill made her immature it would seem, and in a sour mood. Of course, none of this mattered to the cheerful pink haired woman who had once again forced her out of her springy bed in the early hours of the morning and into what she deemed the 'chameleon room' that her and Tonks had been building and testing her shape shifting abilities. The room had one body length mirror, that stood, dead centre and illuminated the gloomy space. A mirror that Icarus would have to stand in front of for many tiring hours._

" _Do we really have to do this again?" she asked, snuffling and her voice sounding heavy and croaky._

" _Of course! Practice makes perfect, and besides we have to come up with an appearance for you." Tonks replied, batting away any complaints the younger witch had and pushing her towards the mirror to begin their training session. With a sigh Icarus relented and asked, "Start with the hair again?"_

 _Like the younger witch had predicted they were there for hours, she shifted into many different forms until settling on Tonks's favourite disguise. The entire process had always worn Icarus out, she had to hold a lot of her concentration to control her abilities and hold onto one form for hours, having to hold her thoughts and emotions in check like they were some sort of dam, which Tonks tried her best to break. The woman would ask her questions about her childhood, her fears, tell her jokes anything to get her attention and brake her concentration. It had taken awhile for the witch to be able to handle conversations and her abilities… especially when Tonks would bring out her dark humour and dad jokes. But if truth be told lately the young witch was finding Tonks's presence enough of a distraction as is. She found the witch in memorizing. Mentally, it was a taxing experience. One Tonks wanted to push to physically taxing as well today._

" _Really! You want me to run around like some headless chicken!?" she managed to push out of her mouth, shocked at the grinning woman in front of her._

" _No, I want to play tag. You got the mental part down but now you need to get physical and still hold your concentration. This'll get your blood and adrenaline pumping I want to see if you can handle it. Plus, it'll be fun!"_

" _I hate your positive outlook."_

Her disguise was not as drastic as Tonks but enough that the piggish men from that horrible night wouldn't recognise her. Her hair, had shifted from its go to shoulder length chestnut brown hair to a sandy blonde bob cut. She was taller too, with a slightly more pencil figure and smaller breasts. Her cheek bones less sharp and blade like to a more rounded look. All in all, she was impressed and extremely pleased with how her appearance had turned out.

"God yes. I'll finally be able to beat your arse in a fight." She replied cockily, a crooked smirk appearing on her face as she took in her bemused friends face. "Suuure you will short stuff, not like you need to practice spells or anything, just point flick and poof! You win" Tonks teased back. "well what can I say if I can pick everything else up so quickly why not this?" Icarus said, believing in her statement. Not only had she been given training by Tonks but a couple of the other Order members as well to help her try and catch up with her peers as she was very far behind in the beginning, not knowing a thing about Potions, much to Snape's disgust. But, fortunately for her she loved to read, always had even since she was a little girl at the orphanage. The other children never enjoyed playing with her, always saw her as a freak and as a result she turned to the only things that she could consider her friends, books. It was then that she realised one of her many oddities, her memory. It was like her mind was a sponge and the books water, her mind could absorb the knowledge and retain it as easily as blinking. Icarus much to everyone's surprise and Hermione's malcontent and a little bit of begrudged impressment had managed to read all of the required books for any magical student from the start of their education to graduation. And now it was finally time to put the knowledge she had gained to the test. After all, the welsh witch thought. How hard could spell work actually be, if not flick and poof?

"Alright let's go in before you get an even bigger ego." Tonks said breaking through her train of thought and pushing through the door of the wand shop causing a ring to vibrate all around the room on the doors other side. Icarus followed after.

The shop was everything Icarus expected, dusty and dark. Boxes of what she presumed to be wands lay on top of each other, on shelves that lined the entire room leaving only a small space for visitors before the counter. Sat behind the counter, hunched over with a wand in hand and etching knife in the other was an old man, almost older than Dumbledore looked, with white and grey frizzy hair, that stood on all ends of his head and spurted out of his ears. He wore a helmet peace that had attached what looked like different shapes and sizes of lenses or magnifying glasses, which focused on what his thin and bony hands were doing with the wand and knife.

"Hello Miss. Tonks, Icarus. How may I help?" he spoke not once looking up to see who had entered. His voice was croaky as if he'd been coughing for days, which could be the cause with the amount of dust that was floating around, Icarus mused to herself. She was not startled at all by the man's greeting, the fact that he knew who she was. Tonks had debriefed her about the wandmakers odd tendencies and mystic persona.

"I'd like to buy a wand" The witch said, her voice quiet but audible.

"Ah of course, I have been expecting you for some time now. Wait here, I know just the right one." He said lifting off of his chair and flinging the knife and wand onto the already cluttered counter. The last words of his sentence drifted into nothingness as he wondered off into the wand maze, limping slightly to find her a useable wand. Various noises echoed to the girls, clinks, clangs and the occasional bang as they waited for him to return. It was after five minutes of this constant music that made Icarus begin to fidget. She began gently at first, shifting from one foot to another until she was swinging her arms back and forth wondering around the small room impatiently, humming to herself quietly. She had never been good with patience. It was throughout this that she became increasingly aware of eyes on the back of her head. Turning the young witch found Tonks staring at her with an indescribable look it her soft gaze, in that moment their eyes met like so many other times over the past few months. The Aurors eyes shone, an emotion Icarus couldn't understand, radiating from deep within them drawing her closer and pushing the stampede of a noise coming from Mr. Ollivanders out of her mind.

"What?" She questioned the watchful witch.

Tonks drew in a small breath and broke into a smile, showing all teeth and spoke "Never change Icarus." Before the welsh Witch could react, she heard the soft limp of the old wizards retreating form and turned. Happy with the distraction to her beating heart and flushed cheeks.

"Found some that should work, yes indeed! Now try this first." He began his voice straining with age, handing her a wand that resembled an ordinary twig, except for its curving handle and blue body. "Unicorn hair, 10 inches, made from great oak. Excellent for healing." Grabbing the wand out of his hand Icarus looked at Tonks, who mimed flicking the wand with a wink. Huffing at the older Witches playfulness she did just that. It did not go as expected. Not at all. Like a phoenix it burst into flames traveling down from the tip, racing to her hand until she dropped it narrowly avoiding being scorched. Well that could have gone better, she thought staring at the pile of dust at the bottom of her feet.

"One day I the first one won't go horribly wrong. Atlas the wand chooses the wizard, come now we have more!" Mr. Ollivander spoke, breaking through Tonks's snickering in the background. They continued like this until the fourth wand. The others had caused shelves to shake and walls to crack.

"let's try one more, ahh this, yes. Dragon heartstring, 10 ½ inches. Flexible and durable. Excellent for Hexes and charms." He spoke, handing it to Icarus. Reaching out the witch wrapped her fingers around it and felt instant warmth, comfort. Like a hug, a soft pink light radiated from its tip and settled softly.

"It would seem you have been chosen by a wand I find most unusual. It's made of a combination of Cherry wood and Elder, the rarest of all. This wand will be a challenge, capable of lethal and magnificent magic, if handled correctly. It will be trickier to master than others, a strong will is needed. I have not sold a wand quite like this before. A powerful wand for a powerful witch it would seem. Wands offer an insight to a person's core, you will not meet a better judge of character… Now that will be 20 galleons" he said, finishing his ramble.

"20 galleons! 'bit expensive don' you think?" replied Tonks right off the bat. He offered no response though and continued to stare owlishly in silence at Tonks.

"Fine" she muttered breaking eye contact, rummaging through her pockets and handing the money over. Icarus meanwhile was marvelling at her new wand. She thought it beautiful. It spiralled from the tip down to a slight curve, fitting in her hand perfectly. Its contrast of deep, dark red and grey chased each other like a game of quidditch the twins had tried explaining. It felt good. Magic pulsing deep within in it and into the witch's hands.

'Bang!' suddenly a defining explosion was heard in the distance, that caused a vary of reactions in the small wand shop. Mr. Ollivanders, eyes widened in fear, as he began stumbling back into his work bench. Tonks stood straight wand at ready and quickly pushed past a startled and confused Icarus to look outside the display window into the busy street that had began to fill with screams of terror and panic.

"What is it?" The young witch asked, staring at Tonks's paling face.

"My Aunt."


End file.
